


Waking Up Together

by Aluxra



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aluxra/pseuds/Aluxra
Summary: 30 day OTP Domestic Fluff Challenge.Day One: Waking Up TogetherBard wakes up in Thranduil's bed after staying the night.





	Waking Up Together

**Author's Note:**

> I've been nostalgic for Barduil, so decided to write a short ficlet. That is all.

Bard blinked awake from his sleep, squinting against the bright morning sunlight streaming through the gossamer curtains of the arched windows. The alabaster stone of the walls and floor made it seem brighter, the sprawling, spacious room illuminated in warm, golden white light. The delicate, translucent drapes enclosing the four-poster bed fluttered and shifted with the barest hint of a breeze sneaking in through the open windows, the scent of pine and grass and bark and all things green carried in the air.

Confused, he pushed himself up onto one elbow, his weight sinking into the thick mattress underneath him, as he looked around. The bed sheets slipped down his body, the morning air cooling his skin as his memory caught up to him, and he turned to look over his shoulder, just as the figure occupying the other side of the wide bed stirred in their sleep, rolling closer to him. Sleepy, half-awake hands slid around his waist and chest, nimble fingers carding through the dark hair on his chest and low abdomen. Bard allowed himself to be guided back down, his back pressed firmly against a smooth, warm chest, as one long, lean muscled leg swung over his hips, keeping him in place where he lay.

Bard smiled, recalling the events of the night previously, his hands resting over the ones pressed against his sternum and his stomach. ‘Good morning, my Lord Thranduil.’

A contented sigh tickled through his dark hair, ghosting over his ear.

‘Yes,’ Thranduil agreed in a low drawl. ‘I’d say it is a rather pleasant morning to wake up to, after an equally pleasant night.’

‘I should probably return to Dale,’ Bard said. ‘It seems we have slept in quite late, this morning.’

‘Dale won’t fall inside a few hours,’ Thranduil replied, his arms tightening around Bard. ‘I have scouts positioned between our borders, they would send word should a threat arise.’

‘What of your own duties for today?’ Bard asked, glancing over his shoulder. Thranduil’s deep blue eyes were shut, his silvery blonde hair fanned out across the pillow, tangling with a few of Bard’s unruly black curls that strayed close to Thranduil’s head. His face remained peaceful, as if asleep, yet his deep, velvet voice was alert and as imperious as if he were sitting upon his throne.

‘My duties do not begin today until I do,’ he explained. ‘And I do not intend to begin until it is necessary.’

‘Still,’ Bard replied. ‘I did not intend to spend the evening so unexpectedly; people will be wondering where I am. My children –’

‘Your children are safe, as you well know,’ Thranduil interrupted. ‘As for everyone else, they should expect diplomatic relations between kings can take longer than anticipated.’

‘“Diplomatic relations”, is it?’ Bard chuckled. ‘But, I am no king.’

‘You are as much a king as that fool under the mountain,’ Thranduil said, before his voice softened. ‘You are as much a king as I am.’

Bard smiled again, stroking his thumb across the back of Thranduil’s knuckles. Truly, he did not wish to leave; the warmth of Thranduil’s skin and the weight of his arms around him lulled him closer back to sleep. As if reading his thoughts, Thranduil closed what little distance existed between them and pressed a kiss against Bard’s naked, scarred shoulder. ‘Stay with me this morning. Time and the world can wait.’

‘Not even you have the power to stop time,’ Bard teased, even as he settled back into the soft mattress beneath him, tangling his legs with Thranduil’s under the soft, downy quilt.

‘No, but you do,’ Thranduil muttered against his shoulder. Bard cocked his head, twisting round to look at Thranduil. His eyes had opened, staring at Bard intently as he lifted himself up from the mattress and braced himself on one elbow. Freeing his other hand from Bard’s warm skin, he lifted it to Bard’s head and stroked his fingers through his hair, tucking it behind his ear. ‘Time means nothing to us who live forever, yet I feel it move slower when you are near.’

‘So, stay awhile longer,’ he asked, barely above a soft whisper. ‘And slow down time for me.’

He leaned down at the same time as Bard rolled towards him, meeting halfway with a brush of their lips, the scruff of Bard’s beard sharp and prickly against Thranduil’s smooth skin, the warmth and softness of his lips catching against the dry roughness of Bard’s. Bard curled his hand around the nape of Thranduil’s neck, his fingers tangling in his hair, and pulled him closer, locking his free arm around his waist till they were stretched out against each other. Thranduil bracketed Bard’s head with his arms, keeping most of his weight off Bard as they kissed, fitted neatly against each other as the morning carried on beyond the boundary of their bed.


End file.
